Quite A Day

I live a very quiet life--as most of you who read this blog know. Not a whole lot goes on around here that is overly interesting, but when something happens, it usually is a bit over the top. I have had an interesting--to say the least--24+ hours.

To begin with, I wasn't even going to post about the 'tenants' that were checking out the space underneath our storage shed, but I have to because this is where it all began. (I just figured everyone is tired of hearing about my woodland creatures.) About 9:30 or 10:00 last night, I looked out the back window and there I saw TWO skunks playing and frolicking in our backyard. That was not fun, but okay, I'll deal with it. I watched them for awhile and I saw them go under the storage shed, come out from the back and go under again, several times. To me, it seemed as if they were checking the place out for occupancy purposes. Not good. And it was garbage night and I still hadn't put the garbage out! Well, this made me decide that we'll just skip putting out garbage for this week and then double-up next week--I had NO intention of doing a meet and greet with our newest neighbors.

So, K was on night shift and I got caught up in several things and found myself still up when the sun was rising. Thinking this would be a good time to bring the garbage out, considering they hadn't picked up yet, I went to the basement to get the two bags I had there. As I got to the top of the stairs, I dragged one of the bags along my leg. I didn't realize there was broken glass in the bag. (And I still don't remember putting it there.) Immediately I knew something was wrong. I looked down and I had cut myself starting at the top of my kneecap and going up my leg for about three inches. This gash was gaping open about 1/4 inch and it was more than 1/8 inch deep. And of course, it bled. Thankfully K had his cellphone with him--AND he was getting ready to come home--so I called him and said I needed to go to the hospital. And that is where we went as soon as he got home.

Of course, I got to the hospital just at the end of the shift, so I was everyone's last priority. After I FINALLY got into the exam room and the nurse had left, I was left alone for 25 minutes till the new nurse came on. And she only poked her head in to tell me the doctor will be right in.

Sure enough, after waiting another half hour or so, the doctor finally came and told me I needed stitches. He put four in to close the damn thing. It was not fun. I have NEVER had stitches for anything other than surgeries and I NEVER want to do it again! It HURT! I really could have been spending that time in other, more pleasant ways--like getting a bikini wax, or getting my teeth scraped, or listening to someone run their fingernails on a chalkboard! And the doctor wouldn't even work with me--he JUST DIDN'T GET MY SENSE OF HUMOR! He actually asked me if I ever had children and had the nerve to say "this isn't NEARLY as bad as giving birth." Listen buddy, the day you pull a watermelon out of your ass is the day you can compare ANYTHING to childbirth! I can't imagine the fight he must have had with his wife for him to be in the very humorless mood he was in. (I knew it wasn't going to be good when I told him--upon his entering the room for the first time--that I REALLY could use about 3 Xanax for my anxiety. He just gave me a withering glare and said, "It's not going to be that bad.") And what REALLY bites is he is the doctor I always used to like the best in the ER. Don't know what happened to him. So, anyway, I'm stitched and bandaged for the next 7-10 days and then the stitches need to be removed. I just might do it myself.